"I need to talk to you."

Blaine sometimes wondered if Kurt deliberately waited until he took a cigarette drag before speaking, just so he'd have an excuse to get impatient while Blaine exhaled. But Blaine wasn't going to talk with a lungful of smoke, it felt and sounded like talking underwater, and he always personally thought it looked sleazy. He was rebelling, but he wasn't common trailer trash, thank-you-very-much.

"Thought you told me to stay away from you," Blaine said lazily, staring at the chainlink fence the bleachers butted up against. He refused to look at Kurt. He told himself it was because he was still pissed off at the cheerleader, and for no other reason.

"I... I did. And, you did. This... is me coming to you. ...We need to talk."

"I think you've talked plenty," Quinn butted in, draping a proprietary arm over Blaine's shoulder, glaring at Kurt. It might've been a bad idea to tell Quinn about what had happened with Kurt, because now she never missed an opportunity to spout abuse at him. (After she'd calmed down some, and Puck hadn't had to restrain her every time she saw Kurt or Finn, so she wouldn't claw their eyes out. But it wasn't like he could hide that something had happened; as Puck had put it, he'd been "moping like a kicked puppy" for a while.)

Kurt had been looking pretty awkward, apologetic and meek, but now he glared at Quinn, some fire entering his eyes, and fuck, Blaine loved that look.

"I don't think I asked to talk to you." Kurt's eyes raked down and back up Quinn's form, and Blaine had a split second of intuition knowing whatever was about to come out of Kurt's mouth was going to set Quinn off. He braced himself, just as Kurt's lips quirked in a sneer. "Trailer Trash Barbie."

Blaine was fast enough to turn his body and wrap his arm around Quinn's waist as she lunged toward Kurt with a shriek of rage. What he hadn't anticipated was how strong a pissed off girl was, skidding more than a foot before he could brace his feet better to stop Quinn's momentum. "Puck!" he grunt-shouted. "Little help here?!"

Puck, who had been flirting with Lauren until he heard Blaine, rushed over and wrapped both arms around Quinn from behind, lifting her off her feet to take away her leverage.

Lauren also came over, at a more leisurely pace, and stood in front of Quinn and Puck, arms crossed forebodingly over her stomach.

Blaine took the first opportunity he could to go over to Kurt, latching onto his arm and starting to pull him away. He heard Quinn ask angrily "Did you hear what he called me?!" and Lauren's reply of "Nope. Don't care, either. Take a chill pill, Princess, before I have to sit on you."

"Jesus," Blaine muttered, then turned to glare at Kurt as they rounded a corner, now by the locker room exits to the field. "Do you have a death wish, or are you naturally this charming?"

Kurt jerked his arm out of Blaine's grip, and ignored his question. "We need to talk."

Blaine scowled. "You said that already, but as far as I can tell, there's nothing left to say. If you've got something, go ahead. Talk."

Kurt bit his lip, looking nervous again. Blaine really liked sexy, confident Kurt, but vulnerable Kurt was oddly endearing (and okay, kinda sexy), too. And biting his lip like that should not be allowed. Or even legal.

"It's just...now I'm not sure..." Kurt said, oblivious to Blaine's thoughts. He squared his shoulders, put his determined face on (and fuck, yep, it's still hot and sexy), opened his mouth, and said—

"I'm pregnant."

......what? Blaine shook his head a little, as if trying to rattle some sense into place. "You—what? That's—" not possible, he wanted to say, but then realized that, yes, it really was. He usually didn't think about the fact that men could have babies, because he never planned to be in the position to get pregnant, so it didn't really concern him.

...Except now, it seemed, it very well could concern him.

"Impossible?" Kurt filled in, looking upset and angry (sassy, Blaine's brain unhelpfully supplied). "Trust me, it's very possible, and also, it's true."

"...why are you telling me?" He wasn't honestly dense enough to need to ask, but he just had to. There was no way Kurt and Finn hadn't... He'd seen the way Finn practically draped himself over Kurt when they walked down the halls together, and their PDAs were kind of hard to miss, even if he wasn't constantly watching Kurt out of the corner of his eye whenever he was around.

Okay, now Kurt just looked pissed. He planted his hands on his hips and glared at Blaine. "Because," he hissed, "I've had sex exactly once, and it wasn't with Finn!"

Before he could think about it, Blaine opened his mouth and said, "Technically, you've had sex twice, then. Well, three times, if we're going by number of orgasms—"

Kurt gave a high-pitched growl and kind of jerked forward, and Blaine was pretty sure Kurt was just barely stopping himself from reaching over and trying to strangle him. Kurt turned his head away, chin jerking up obstinately, and after a couple seconds, he turned completely around so his back was to Blaine. Blaine stared at him, confused at what was happening. Was Kurt trying to ignore him until he said something, or apologized? Because, fuck that. Blaine Anderson didn't apologize, especially to guys who dissed him, then told him to stay away from them.

He watched as Kurt bent his head down and his shoulders jerked a little. A few seconds later, it happened again, but this time, it was accompanied with a quiet, hitching breath. And then again, and— oh, fuck.

"Kurt." He made sure his voice was firm and even. Kurt ignored him, except to give another muffled sob.

Blaine's stony expression crumbled into distress. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Of their own accord, Blaine's hands fluttered in front of him uselessly, not sure what to do, or how to—comfort Kurt. Goddamn this gorgeous boy and his fucking irresistible personality that Blaine just couldn't stay away from or shut out. What was it that kept drawing him back to Kurt, kept making him just want to comfort him? (But Blaine knew—almost a decade now of misplaced guilt and fascination and just wanting to comfort the beautiful boy, meant he didn't really know how else to feel toward him. Didn't know how to feel anything else for him.)

Hesitantly, Blaine rested his hands lightly on the curve of Kurt's shoulders, just above his arms. The next sob either wasn't muffled, or Kurt was crying harder, unable to mask the noise like before. "Please..." Blaine said softly, moving forward a little, but still keeping space between their bodies. "Please, don't cry. Kurt..." His mouth opened and closed a few times soundlessly, before he finally got out, "...I'm sorry..."

"No, you're not!" Kurt cried, but he didn't try to move away from Blaine's hands, just turning his head a little to be heard over his shoulder. "You don't even care! You just—you just wanted to fuck me, and you got to, and now it doesn't even matter to you!"

Blaine finally moved forward until Kurt's slightly taller body was tucked against his chest, and slowly, he rested his chin on Kurt's shoulder. His hands moved down Kurt's arms, which now were crossed over his middle, until Blaine's arms were wrapped around his stomach under Kurt's own arms. "I'm sorry," he said again quietly, next to Kurt's ear. "You kinda sprung this— on me, with no warning. I'm sorry."

Kurt shook his head, hiccuping as he tried to hold in his sobs. "No, I—God, I'm so scared," he confessed in a small voice. "And I've been crying at like, everything, and when I'm not crying, I'm puking, I can barely keep anything down, and I just—I don't know what to do."

Blaine's brain went blank for a moment at that last part. "I...what, do you mean?" He'd just learned about Kurt being pregnant five minutes ago. He'd barely wrapped his head around it yet. He hadn't had even as long as Kurt had (what, a month, month and a half? Forty-six days his brain—again unhelpfully—supplied. He may have that night burned into his memory. For several reasons.) to consider all the ramifications, the consequences and courses of action that could be taken. Kurt could mean a dozen different things when he said ‘I don't know what to do,' but Blaine's brain went straight to the worst one, and he's known about this whole thing for five minutes, so why did it hurt to even consider it? (Because everything that could be good, everything you could love gets taken away from you. Why should this be any different?)

"I want out of this fucking town!" Kurt screamed, throwing his arms down in emphasis, turning and pushing Blaine away from him, though not very hard. He glared angrily, and his face was wet with tears and red from crying, his eyes red-rimmed, and Blaine's breath caught involuntarily in his throat. Because he pretty much always thought Kurt was beautiful, but he shouldn't be this beautiful while he was so obviously hurting.

"I don't want to be stuck here with a baby!" Kurt continued screaming. "I don't want to have to work two dead-end jobs just to make ends meet and barely even succeed at that, and have people look down on me for some stupid mistake I made in high school, just because I was infatuated with a boy and let him talk me into having sex with him one night! I don't want to be some washed-up has-been who never even got the chance to make anything out of his life! I don't want to have to raise a child by myself because their father doesn't want anything to do with me!"

He was crying again, but Blaine couldn't let that last one go unanswered. And it kind of pissed him off. "You told me to stay away from you!"

"I KNOW!" Kurt shrieked, before burying his face in his hands and sobbing even harder than before.

God, Blaine's head was starting to hurt, and he wasn't even the one crying. Also, he was getting emotional whiplash. Finally, he moved forward again, a little wary of Kurt trying to push him away as he tried to wrap his arms around him—which Kurt did, giving small pushes to his shoulders, but Blaine persisted, and Kurt quickly stopped pushing and instead wrapped his arms around Blaine's chest, clutching at him and burying his face in Blaine's neck, still giving out heart-wrenching sobs. Blaine wasn't tall enough to tuck Kurt's head under his chin, so instead he just tilted his head against Kurt's, enveloping him in a hug and making slow shushing sounds in his ear.

When Kurt's sobs had settled into small hitching breaths, Blaine started speaking softly. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, Kurt. But...whatever you decide to do...I'll support you. However I can. Money, or a shoulder to cry on, or... arms to hold you. Whatever you need, I'll do my best to help. I'm not going to let you go through this alone."

He felt like scum for suggesting giving him money, when it was possible that money would go to getting rid of the problem, and how many times did his parents just throw money at a problem until it went away? He hated that, about his entire family, that they thought money could solve everything. But it was a real issue, and he hoped Kurt understood that he meant more than that. He'd work three jobs if he had to, to support Kurt. He would do anything for Kurt; he just couldn't tell the other boy that. For a multitude of reasons, one of them being pride.

There was no way he was letting Kurt get even a glimpse of just how desperate he was to be with him, to be near him, in whatever capacity Kurt would allow. (Thank God for Quinn, or he would have been an absolute wreck after their one and only night together, and later, when Kurt told him to stay away from him. He'd been a wreck anyway, but Quinn had figuratively bitch-slapped him into keeping it together in public.)

"...what if I want to keep it?" Kurt's voice came softly, muffled by Blaine's neck. "What if I don't—what if I gave it up for adoption? Would you..." Kurt took a shuddering breath. "Would you still be there for me? After? Could you—"

He didn't finish, but Blaine actually let himself hope Kurt was asking would you still love me? because he'd never told Kurt, had only let himself think it when he was wallowing in angst and self-pity. But he knew, all the same. "Yes," he said, without hesitation, curling his arms around Kurt's shoulders and holding him tighter. "Until you told me not to."

They end up sitting on the cold concrete ground, resting against the wall of the school, Kurt tired from crying and all of his recent emotional stress. He sat between Blaine's legs, pressed against Blaine's chest, and his head tilted back to rest against Blaine's collarbone. Blaine's arms were wrapped loosely around Kurt's waist, his fingers laced together over Kurt's stomach.

"Have you told your dad yet?" Blaine asked quietly.

Kurt lolled his head against Blaine's collarbone languidly in a headshake. "No. I... I wanted to tell you first. You're the first person I've told."

Blaine went still and quiet as he understood just what that meant. "So you... So Hudson doesn't know, either," he said flatly. He tried for nonchalance, but knew it didn't come off right.

Kurt heard it right away, of course. He stiffened against Blaine's chest, but didn't pull away, and didn't sound close to tears, which Blaine was distantly thankful for. "No, he doesn't, yet. I'm going to tell him, of course. Soon. I just wanted to tell you, first."

Blaine nodded, and had to consciously make his body relax. "Well, just let me know when you are going to tell him. So I can watch my back, in case he decides to attack me again."

It was Kurt's turn to stiffen up against Blaine. "Oh, because you didn't deserve it? You were completely innocent of the whole thing." His sarcasm was almost tangible.

Blaine started tensing again, this time in anger. "No," he bit out. "I slept with his boyfriend. Thanks for the sudden attack of conscience, telling him about it, too."

Kurt twisted in his arms so he could glare at Blaine. "I told you, I haven't told him yet!"

Blaine's anger was momentarily forgotten, taken over by confusion. "No, I meant—you never told him we slept together?"

Kurt gave him a withering look over his shoulder. "Do you really think we'd still be dating if I ever had?"

Blaine shook his head just a little, still confused and trying to arrange things logically in his head. "Then—then, why did he attack me a few days after it happened?"

Kurt, still twisted around to see him, pulled away from his body in surprise. "Attacked you? You gave him a bruised face and split lip!"

"Yeah," Blaine retorted indignantly, "after he charged me out of the blue and socked me in the eye!"

Kurt stared at him, his face going slack with surprise. "You— you mean, you didn't start it?"

It was Blaine's turn to give him a withering look. "Yeah, because clearly, I'm suicidal. He's got half a foot and at least fifty pounds over me. He's a fucking football player, even if the Titans are a pansy-ass team. Why the fuck would I start a fight with him?"

Kurt's voice, small and confused, matched the expression on his face. "But—but, you were just so—you were so angry that night, and then you were ignoring me... and then Finn said you got into a fight with him..."

"Is that what he told you? He said I got into it with him?"

"I—" Kurt paused, trying to remember. It had been over a month now, and guilt made the memories hazy. But... "...no," he said slowly. "No, he... he said ‘we got into a fight.' He never said..."

When Kurt trailed off, Blaine couldn't help but jump in, sneering a little. "No. You just assumed. Because big, lovable oaf Finn would never attack someone without being provoked. Wild, fucked-up bad boy Anderson, on the other hand..."

"I thought you were jealous!" Kurt cried angrily, but also defensively.

"I was!" Blaine shot back. Then he gave a cynical laugh. "Hell, was? I'm still fucking jealous of him! You're going to break up with him, to be with me, and I'm fucking jealous of him!"

Kurt finally pulled away completely to face Blaine, moving to kneel between Blaine's knees, scowling fiercely. "Why? That's ridiculous!"

"What am I supposed to think, Kurt? Huh?" Blaine shot back. "You're only doing this because you're pregnant! If it weren't necessary, you'd just keep going with the status quo, and never give me a second thought."

"Oh, so you know what I think and feel, now?" Kurt scoffed. "Clearly, you know me so well!"

"I know you want someone to help you through this, and we both know Finn won't. Not when he finds out what you did!"

They stared at each other for a moment, Kurt's eyes widening, his face draining of color. Shit, Blaine thought. He should not have said that. Not like that, anyway. "Kurt—"

Kurt held up a hand. He took a deep, gulping breath, before asking hoarsely, "If your positions were reversed, would you? Support me. If I'd cheated on you, with Finn, and got pregnant, would you still support me, the way—the way you say you will now?"

"Yes!" Blaine cried, getting exasperated. He threw his hands up, and spoke before thinking. "God, are you really this dense?"

Before he had a chance to explain, or apologize, or really do anything besides realize just what he'd said, and how it sounded, Kurt's face turned angry and cold.

"Fuck you, Blaine Anderson. Just—fuck you." He stood up quickly, shouldering his bag and, in the time it took Blaine to scramble to his feet, he'd started jogging away.

"Kurt—Kurt, wait!" Blaine yelled. "Kurt!" Kurt never slowed or even glanced back.

Blaine watched his retreating back until he was gone, then just stood there for another long minute, face crumpled in desperation. Then, shifted to angry. His hands curled into fists, and he pulled his foot back to kick the wall of the building. "FUCK!"